


What This World Has Forgotten

by KaraMellSenpai



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29942628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaraMellSenpai/pseuds/KaraMellSenpai
Summary: What would happen if you accidently stepped back in time to the days of the Shinsengumi? Would you warn them of their fate? Would your presence there alter history? More importantly, would you ever get home again?
Kudos: 2





	What This World Has Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Dialogue in brackets is when Japanese is spoken.

Part 1: _Kyoto_

Prologue

One sight I’m getting used to since I arrived here is the panic turning into annoyance when I try to talk to people. I don’t blame them. I ooze geek.

Cora Carter: “[Excuse me, where is the toilet?]”

The stranger points, I bow, and hurry off in that direction. I’m relieved I got that phrase in Japanese right. There were two other phrases I made sure to memorize before I boarded the plane for Kyoto: “Help! I need the police!” and “I’m terribly sorry” (I have two left feet— for walking). Despite appearances, I’m no wide-eyed tourist.

Let me sum up. It all started with the Fountain of Youth, the Water of Life to some. I know, out of the vast expanse of possible topics for my Master’s thesis, I could have picked something more interesting, and less, well… done to death. As far as the faculty of the university are concerned, my research antics will do _them_ to death. How’s that? Review below:

_Step 1: Student decides that the best way to gather new information on such a tedious topic is to traverse to locations in which its legends and folktales originate._

_Step 2: Student has little to no money. Begging and scraping to university professors until they say “yes” so she’ll leave them alone ensues. Funding for research trips (and professors’ migraines) acquired!_

_Step 3: Trips yield a bare minimum of any useful information for thesis topic. Student begs for a second chance. Then a third. Student is added to professors’ “do not call list” and go to great lengths to avoid her._

So yeah, getting here wasn’t painless. If not for my friend and roommate Wesley speaking well of me and frequently apologizing on my behalf, I wouldn’t even be here. Hurrying to the bathroom, I take a moment to reminisce on our plane ride texting conversation.

Me: “Thanks so much for this! You’re the best! (big grin emoji)”

Wesley: “Just make sure you find something this time. My rep’s on the line.”

Me: “Not to worry. They love you over there.”

Wesley: “You sure you can trust this guy you met online? How do you know he’s not waiting to ax murder you the moment you meet?”

Me: “In broad daylight? That’ll turn some heads. It’s fine, he’s a doctor.”

Wesley: “Doctor…?”

Me: “Kodo. He sounds legit. Besides, he’s the biggest lead I’ve had for a while. I gotta chance it.”

Wesley: “Right. Want me to inscribe that on your gravestone?”

Me: (Robert Downey Jr. eye roll gif)

I push the bathroom door open in the café I’m supposed to meet Dr. Kodo. Based on a quick scan of the patrons and considering the description he told me online, I don’t think he’s shown up yet.

I finished with the bathroom and opened the door back into the café and blinked twice. Instead of people dining at tables, I opened the door to a city street at night. It was afternoon just a moment ago. I shut the door quietly, frowned, and opened it again. Same city night street. A cold winter breeze blew snow inside. I slammed the door shut and rubbed my eyes.

Cora Carter: “Did I eat something bad last night on the plane?”

Did food poisoning cause hallucinations? Mechanically, I fumbled for my phone, but there was no service. I shoved it back in my bag, grasped the door handle, and took a deep breath.

Cora Carter: “When I open the door, it will be the café in a sunny afternoon in June.”

I opened the door. Guess what.

Winter? Check.

Nighttime? Check.

Spooky empty street outside? We have a winner.

Well, either I could wait for things to go back to normal for an unknown amount of time in a cramped bathroom, or face the weirdness and explore the unknown outside. My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten this morning in my hurry to get to my meeting in time. I sighed.

Cora Carter: “Too bad public bathrooms don’t have vending machines.”

It sucked that I didn’t have a coat. I hugged my arms tight as I stepped outside and looked around from right to left. From the light of a paper lantern, I could see three figures crowded together, kneeling over something I couldn’t see. I was pretty sure I’d seen their blue coats somewhere before. Let’s see… blue coats, plus samurai swords, plus tie-on head guard equals… the answer popped up in my head with a joyful buoyancy only an otaku would understand.

Cora Carter: “Shinsengumi!”

They stopped to stare at me. Their hair was frosty white, though they didn’t look old, but that wasn’t the strangest part. There was blood dripping from grinning teeth. Their crazed eyes gleamed a crimson red as their attention settled on me. They looked very hungry.

You know, I really should stop thinking out loud.

I spun around, fumbling desperately at the bathroom’s doorknob.

Cora Carter: “It’s locked! Why?!”

I heard a muffled voice on the other side of the door.

Bathroom Occupant: “Someone’s in here.”

Cora Carter: “I don’t care! Let me in!”

The creepy three behind me were approaching. I heard giddy shrieks of laughter. I beat my fists on the door.

Cora Carter: “Lemme in, lemme in, lemme in! Please!”

The lock clicked and the door cracked open. I sobbed with relief.

Cora Carter: “Thank you! Thank you so—”

A hand thrust a short sword in its sheath in my arms and slammed the door shut. I gaped at the door as the lock clicked. A toilet flushed.

Cora Carter: “Oh, c’mon!”

Fingers grabbed my hair and yanked me backwards. Blood and saliva dripped on my face. A man’s voice shrieked joyfully.

Creepy Shinsengumi guy: [“Blood! Blood!”]

Time to practice my Japanese.

Cora Carter: [“Help! I need the police!”]

But my voice was only a squeaky whisper. I struggled violently as the three men pinned me down. I heard the steel sing as swords were drawn. Their breath reeked of blood. I shut my eyes tightly and hoped being eaten was painless.

Who am I kidding? But then I remembered the short sword my fingers were desperately squeezing. I tugged it out and thrust it forwards.

Sticky blood splashed on my face. I heard a shriek that sounded like a frightened animal. I couldn’t see anything because the blood covered my glasses like red paint. Grimacing, I sat up and pulled them off and blinked through the snowfall just as bodies hit the street right in front of me. I could just make out a blurry someone new. I wiped the lenses on my T-shirt and almost dropped them putting them back on; my hands were shaking badly.

The first thing I focused on were the familiar Shinsengumi blues. Only after my heart beat a hyper drum solo against my chest did I realize his hair was blessedly black, not white. No hungry red eyes to boot.

He was by far the most gorgeous person I’d ever seen. For a moment, the night lost all sound. Looking at him, I forgot to breathe. Our eyes locked. I puked.

Yes, you read that right. Foul, acidic bile rushed from my mouth at the feet of my apparent rescuer. For the record, attractive people don’t normally make me vomit. The reek of blood and lacerated corpses can do that to a person. But how does one apologize for this breach of manners? _Beastly_ sorry to literally hurl myself at your feet. Could we pretend this never happened and I’ll grab you a coffee?

???: [“What’s wrong, Hajime? You scared the poor girl so bad you made her sick?”]

What did he say? I turned to see another attractive Shinsengumi man approach, relaxed and smirking. What is this? A movie set? I scanned the street around us for cameras.

Gorgeous Thing 1: [“She saw everything. Even the victims.”]

Gorgeous Thing 2: [“So, we can kill her then.”]

The second guy’s voice was thrilled, grinning at me. I mimicked his expression nervously. Smiling is good, right? But I doubt they’re talking about treating me to ice cream. My rescuer eyed me coldly.

GT 1: [“That’s not our call to make.”]

GT 2: [“We can’t have her telling people what she saw. Better to take her out.”]

GT 1: [Maybe, but I don’t think she speaks Japanese. Look at her.”]

The twosome observed me for a moment… with what? Curiosity? Disappointment? I should probably say something to explain myself, but how would they understand me? I could pull my Japanese to English dictionary out of my backpack, but sudden movements and steel toting strangers don’t mix.

???: [“What are you idiots staring at?”]

Get the fuck out. _Another_ face fit for magazine covers? Turn me over. I’m done. Gorgeous Thing 3 does not look happy, and somehow that only adds to his beauty. As the three exchange words, I can’t help looking on in equal parts awe and intimidation. The lyrics of a Radiohead song come to mind, about being in the presence of someone so breathtaking and knowing you yourself don’t belong. I don’t belong here. I don’t…

A roaring filled my ears. The world started to tilt. I felt feverish and uncomfortably sick. One of them grabbed my wrist and pulled. I must have fainted then because everything went silent and black.


End file.
